Disclaimer: Fire Emblem doesn't belong to me. Biiiiiiig surprise there. (It will someday! It will it will! ') ...And I don't own the Wicked Witch of the West either. blinks ;
Warning: Yaoi! What'd you expect? ; Raven/Lucius, mainly. Along with certain other pairings I might randomly insert.
Chapter One: "Son? What do you mean you're a boy, Daughter?"
"Is she getting better?" The King hovered outside the door to his daughter's room, peering anxiously at the maid who just exited. "My poor daughter..."
The maid sighed, closing her eyes briefly. All the servants who attended the King's frail child knew that it was, in fact, a boy. The King himself once knew too. However, old age and who-knows-what-else seemed to have destroyed that part of his mind, and he stuck to the belief that he had a daughter. The maids humored him, from time to time, when it did no harm. "Yes, Your Majesty, your child will be fine."
"Good, good..." Despite not knowing his own son's gender, the aged King was quite a caring father. He took much pride in the fact that his "daughter" was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world. A fact which, embarassingly enough for the prince, was likely true. After the Queen's death many years ago, the King raised his child as well as a father could, teaching "her" and buying "her" whatever "she" wanted.
However, there was one thing not even all the riches in the kingdom could buy. Oh, no, it was not the usual "love", declared with an over-dramatic sigh. The young prince had plenty of love, both for his beauty and for his gentleness. No, indeed. The royal family wished it could have been something so simple.
No, it was not a lack of love. It was the lack... of a cure.
"This sickness, this sickness..." A pained expression came across the King's face as he thought about his beloved daughter. "Why did it have to be her? Does anyone know the cause of this?"
The maid shook her head. "No. At least, none of the healers do. Your child might know, but we do not presume to ask."
The King nodded, a determined look flashing across his aged face. "I understand. I will ask her, then."
The maid sighed again. There was no stopping their King when he got an idea into his head, such as the one that told him his son was a daughter. There was nothing she could do. Perhaps they would finally be able to save the sweet youth. "If that is your wish, Your Majesty."
"It is." For one moment, the aged King seemed as he was long ago. But it did not last long. Before an eyeblink's time, he reverted to his old, kindly, and slightly-senile self. "Is it all right to go in?"
"Yes, of course." The maid curtsied. Imagine! The King asking a servant if it was all right to enter a room in his own castle; especially that of his own child.
Humming lightly, the King opened the door.
Sunlight greeted him as it streamed through a partially-opened window, the heavy velvet curtains drawn back to admit a beautiful view of the Royal Garden. Before the window, resting on a divan and gazing out, was the young prince. "The most beautiful woman in the world", he truly seemed, with his head of long hair like threads of sunlight, his skin a pearly white as it seemed to be illuminated from within. Upon his slender body draped a long robe of azure to challenge the sky. In his presence, people felt... peace. He radiated tranquility like a radioactive metal.
...No? No radioactivity?
...
In any case, he was beautiful, he was sweet, and he seemed to be perfectly fine as he sat there. At the moment, indeed, one could only assume so, as he was not clutching his throat or writhing in pain or any such thing. For that, his old father was glad.
"Lucia, my daughter," the King began awkwardly, not noticing as the prince winced slightly. "It has come to my attention that you are having more of these 'fits' of yours recently. Do you know the reason?"
The golden-haired prince thought about this momentarily, and nodded. "Yes, Father, I do." It was truly a wonder to be able to tell he was anything but a woman, for even his voice was sweet and melodious.
"And it is?" The King looked absolutely fearful as he asked, expecting the worse for the answer.
"It is a curse." The prince ws calm, speaking in such a matter-of-factly manner that one would not guess him to be explaining something that could result in his death. "From the Dark Dragon on the Mountain of Despair, Father," he added helpfully, ignoring the sudden burst of thunder and lightning when he named the aforementioned mountain. "And if my calculations are correct, I only have about a month left to live."
...Could result in his death? Change that to would result in his death.
The King paled. He had fought armies single-handedly and not shown the slightest inkling of fear (or so his failing memory said), but now, he was so plagued with the darnable (no, no swearing, for that would offend our dear "princess"'s virgin ears) thing that he could barely move. Or talk. Maybe that explained his stutter.
"O-only one m-m-month?"
The beautiful youth was still as calm as can be. "Yes, father, only one month."
"A-and when did you l-learn about this? Th-that you are u-under a-a c-c-curse, I mean."
Again, the prince considered this question, answering slowly. "A while... Perhaps a year."
"What?!" It appeared that an even greater shock has defeated the King's immobility and speech impediment, as he paced the length of the room, ranting and waving his arms dramatically. It should be noted, however, that the room was quite long, so the prince could not quite catch some of what his father was saying as he was at the other end. "Why didn't you tell us earlier? My own daughter, keeping such a secret from the ducks in our chicken coop, while the guards tried to catch little bratty children!" (The prince was almost certain the second part of that was not correct, but, as mentioned earlier, he could not quite hear, and that was the closest thing that matched in his mind.) "I suppose if you go to the Wicked Witch of the West (tm), you might be able to perhaps tell me if you also know the cure for it?"
"Yes, Father." The prince rose slightly from his divan and bowed, keeping a hand upon the window sill to steady himself. He did not see what a wicked witch had to do with anything, especially since everyone knew witches didn't exist (but then, neither did dragons, and one had apparently cursed him), but he did know the cure for his strange... condition. "Firstly, I did not tell because no one had asked. To remove the curse, someone needs to traverse through the Forest of Nightmares, swim across the shark-infested (though I could have sworn it was something more mythical than sharks) Lake of Yucky-Things, and climb the Mountain of Despair (thunder and lightning)." He frowned lightly. "And I'm sure I got the lake part wrong."
The King waved that aside. "And the cure rests on top of the Mountain of Despair (thunder and lightning)?"
"Yes. I mean, no. I mean..." The prince closed his eyes momentarily. "The Dark Dragon rests on top of the Mountain of Despair (thunder and lightning), though how much actual resting he does, I have no idea. I seem to remember rumors that he is... rather busy... sometimes. A hero would have to slay the dragon -- poor thing -- and its master -- the mean, evil person who cursed me for no reason -- before the curse would subside."
"Ah..." The aged King frowned. "So the master is the person who cursed you... I wonder who it is."
The prince blinked, and shrugged, albeit very respectfully. "I cannot remember events of my own birth, Father."
"No, no, of course not." There was a long stretch of silence as the King tried to remember who exactly was at his daughter's birth. There was Cousin Jean, Cousin Philip, Cousin Ryan, Cousin Emma, Cousin Christina, Cousin Kira, Cousin... (A/N: ...Ah, no offense to anyone. I pulled random names out of the air. ')
Softly, the prince poked his father's arm, while waving his other hand in front of the old man's face. "Faaaaaaather... Earth -- rather, Elibe -- to Father..."
It took a while, but the King finally came to with a start. "Who, wha?" It took a moment more to get his bearings. When he did, he looked rather pleased with himself.
"Have you remembered who it was?" the golden prince asked curiously.
"No, not at all," his father answered, as if that was the most perfectly natural thing in the world. And perhaps it was. After all, could one really expect a King who could not remember the gender of his own son -- even if the aforementioned son did look more than just a little feminine -- to remember everyone at the said son's birth and what they did to him? Sure, a curse was usually something that sticks in people's minds, but so was -- and once again, we stress this -- the gender of one's own child!
"Then...?"
"I..." The King paused dramatically. "...have found a way to break your curse."
"Really?" The youth's face lit up, just like a lightbulb. But then, lightbulbs probably weren't invented then, so perhaps a candle would have been a better analogy. But candles have flames, and... "So what is it? As long as it has nothing to do with lightbulbs or candles, I will be happy."
"...Lightbulbs?"
"Never mind."
The King continued as if the "lightbulb interruption" had never happened. Perhaps it truly never had, and your mind was only playing tricks on your eyes. Or maybe the other way around. "I have a great idea."
After his initial excitement, the prince was beginning to get rather worried. His father looked like... a teenage girl about to go on a shopping spree; that was how delighted he was. "Th-that's great. Would you care to tell me what it is, Father?"
Slowly, the King nodded, the proceeded to drag his child out of the room, down the hall, and out into one of the castle's many large balconies from which he proclaim news to the Whole World. As luck would have it (or fate, or fairy-tale coincidence), the Whole World was already in the square before the castle, waiting. How the Whole World could fit there was a point to be accepted and not pondered.
"I am here to make an announcement!" the King declared importantly, as if he ruled over all these people. In fact, he did not, because the Whole World included more than just his kingdom, as would be revealed later, but that was later. "Who would like to marry my beautiful daughter?"
The people gathered below cheered, and it was noted with interest that only eligible young men were left. That made it a whole lot less crowded, since it did not contain the Whole World anymore. They, of course, ignored the fact that the announcement was, in fact, a question and not an announcement. They had all heard of the legendary beauty of the King's daughter. Some of them remembered hearing before that it was a son, but the blushing and eep-ing maiden beside the King could only be that -- a young maiden of extraordinary beauty.
Now that the question was done and received with good answer, the King proceeded to his actual announcement. "My daughter is very sick." There was a collective gasp, broken only by a few people who decided to take the word "sick" in the wrong way and snicker. It needed not be said (but would be put anyway) that the King's Guards appeared out of nowhere and quietly removed those people. "There is only one way to cure her. The Dark Dragon and its master must be defeated. The hero who does this shall have my daughter's hand in marriage!"
One voice spoke up, though how he was heard above the throng of noises was a secret unknown to this day. "Your Majesty, I have two questions."
The King inclined his head graciously, not knowing where the voice came from and so nodding in every direction. "You may ask them."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." The person was still unrevealed. "First of all, why were some of the words in itallics?"
"Ah, that is for making sure you adventurers remember them."
Somewhere down below, a whole bunch of new heroes-to-be learned the special hero-spell "recall".
"My second question, Your Majesty," the person continued, "is... Where exactly are this Dark Dragon and its master located?" The person noted with interest that he, too, spoke in itallics when he said key words.
"Oh..." The King blinked, trying to remember. "They're on the... The... The top of the..."
"Mountain of Despair," the prince offered, ignoring the thunder and lightning, which was much fainter now, as it had used up most of its energy. Why it was "it" and not "they", he did not know. Perhaps it was because they were a single entity.
"Yes," the King agreed, nodding. "Anyway, whoever does this will have my daughter's hand in marriage!"
A great cheer sounded, and the abovementioned thunder and lightning glared at it in annoyance. It was not its fault it was louder than it (that is, the cheer was louder than the thunder). After all, it (the cheer) was made by a part of the Whole World.
Suddenly, the prince realized what this meant, and quickly dragged his father back into the castle, before turning him around and looking at him seriously. It was amazing how, as soon as one was inside the castle, it was all silent except for the background music created by instruments that did not exist yet.
"Father, I have something to tell you. You can't marry me off to one of them. It's not possible. I'm..."
The King gasped. "Y-you're not..."
The prince looked down, blushing slightly. "Yes, Father, I am."
The King was speechless for a moment, much like what happened a while ago. "Tell me, daughter, who was the father?"
"What?" The youth looked up, blinking owlishly. "The father of what?"
"Why, your child, of course." The King was just as confused as his son. "Is that not what you wanted to tell me? That you were pregnant? Oh, we would have to find the real father, then, and cancel the announcement, and..."
"Father..." This was as close to real irritation as the young prince had ever gotten. "I. Am. Not. Pregnant."
"Oh." A moment of silence. "Really?"
"Really." The prince nodded. "And I can prove it, too."
"How?"
"Father..." The prince hesitated, unsure how to break the news. Well, his father thought him pregnant already, so nothing else should come as a shock, right? "I am not your daughter. My name is not 'Lucia'. I..."
The King blinked. "Sure you are. I raised you myself. You're my flesh and blood, as sure as the sky is blue."
The prince sighed. "Father, my name is 'Lucius'."
"Nonsense!" The King waved a hand dismissively. "That, my dear, is a boy's name."
"And I, dear Father," Lucius politely informed him, "am a boy."
Pregnancy, the King could deal with, but not this. In fact, he was too shocked to act much shocked, as his daughter -- now revealed to be a son -- smiled unsurely. He could only utter two words.
"...Oh dear."
Eh-heh... ;;; shuffles off Sleep now, that I will...